


Of Fey & Dragonfire

by vibrantium



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dragon Riders, Fae & Fairies, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:07:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24052570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vibrantium/pseuds/vibrantium
Summary: Finn, a Faerie sentinel, had followed the fire trails to the dragon. It growled, but its broken wings uncurled with a hiss of pain, & from beneath fabulous wealth of scales of its belly, the dragon revealed its dying rider.dragonrider!Poe Dameron x faerie!Finn
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Finn
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	Of Fey & Dragonfire

His head turned to follow the trail of fire across the dark sky & his heart started to beat faster. _Dragons._

There are many dangerous creatures across the Faerie Wildlands, where a Fae such as he dwells, but none as mighty & as terrifying as a dragon. 

So heart thumping in his throat, Finn tightens his grip on his spear. Cursing the Skies for his damned fate, there is only one of him, a Fae sentinel, while his other _colleagues_ are scattered in the darkness of the night watch.

His heightened Faerie senses had colored his heart with terror. _Dragons, what is he against a dragon?_ From the booming sound that he had heard, the rumble as heft touched ground, this may not be the tiny adorable dragons he suddenly so wished to have existed. A dying Fae's wish.

Finn let himself the luxury of a dark thought. A Faerie sentinel to the First Order, he is _disposable._ There are many like him: trained from their Faeling youth to spend their lives to be of _service (he indulged in a traitorous bitterness to the word)_ to the cause; a supremacy of the First Order against the other Faerie Courts, and eventually across the Faerie Wildlands.

_So if this is the end, then so be it._

He can see where the dragon might be, judging from the ashes & embers that are starting to climb on the shrubberies all around him. Finn knew if he made a sudden move, he would be an easy target.

He traversed so, so slowly & his face had started to be wet with sweat, out of the incoming heat & fire that he can sense against the chill of the night. And with the low groan of a wounded, stirring creature, Finn realized that his face too is also wet with _tears_.

He had wished that in his last moments, his mind would find themselves clinging desperately to moments of childhood: a parent's face, a childhood mischief went wrong, the scent of a garden full of fruits ready for harvest. For these moments to provide him comfort in his dying moments.

But Finn had no such memories, nothing for him to petition of the worth of his life, so he stepped forward to the clearing.

The dragon, intelligent creature it is, spotted him so easily, & let out a snarl. Finn's death is near. But Finn can see that the dragon is wounded, unable to spring & bring him a gruesome death. 

The oddity of the circumstances had amused Finn, more like. And the finality of his death had somewhat comforted him, knowing whatever he did next, he will be dead seconds after.

So he did the unlikely: he dropped his spear to the ground, & held out his other hand in a gesture of surrender.

The next seconds slide like a fever dream, & perhaps all the smoke & his crying had failed his sight; but the dragon eyed him curiously, as curiously as a wild dragon would, Finn supposed.

 _I will not hurt you,_ Finn did not recognize his own voice.

The next minutes stretched as the fire left in the dragon's crash started to build. But the dragons stared & stared & stared. Growls that Finn can only supposed as the dragon's monologue.

The dragon's broken wings uncurled with a hiss of pain, & from beneath fabulous wealth of scales of its belly, the dragon revealed a body.

A man. Dark brows & dark hair & bloodied temple above closed lids. A _human_ man.

Finn realized with horror that this human had fallen with the dragon from the skies. He moved closer to check for the man's pulse & injuries, with the automated sequence of a soldier.

He's alive, but dying.

The next minutes were stranger & stranger still, with Finn extracting the man from beneath the dragon (to the dragon's strange urging gestures), cleaning his wounds (impossible, he's bleeding), & trying to call him back to consciousness. Finn would tell him of the fig tree that the soldiers would climb for the fruits & gambled them for chore lots. For the creeks where he would go in secret to calm himself down from the horrors of wars to the punishment of Captain Phasma: Finn's commander, a mountain of a Fae. For the crows that mimic his swearing if you repeat them enough.

He's suddenly full of stories, cradling the head of this man in his lap, & they will die together.

The dragon growled & Finn was immediately aware that they are no longer alone. The sentinels of the First Order were arriving, no doubt noting the fire & the debris. The dragon, however mighty, was wounded heavily, & the Dark Order had numbers & efficiency to thank. 

The dragon, chained. The man, unconscious & now a prisoner. Him? To thank.

"You have finally proven yourself useful," came the voice of Captain Phasma, towering & sounding like iron as always, "come along, we do not have a palanquin for you."

Finn would recall that day as the day he had discovered something worse than death, which is the life he's marching back to.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading thus far! If you have any constructive criticism on my writing, please kindly tell them below!
> 
> I can be found most often on my twitter: @vibrantium.


End file.
